Le Baiser
by Cebren
Summary: Francis, feeling blue, decides to visit a deserted beach.


[Author's note: This is another old piece from 2010 I decided to upload for no reason, really. It was originally written as an OC piece, and to be published in our school's paper, but the said paper was cancelled and so was the publication of this piece. I did some editing with the characters and their lines, and.. yeah, here you have it, a Hetalia fic. I hope you enjoy it. :3 ]

It was a foggy afternoon, a rather chilly one of that. Grey-green elephants, Francis remembered some song having described the fog, but he couldn't remember the rest of the song, let alone who had sung it. The melody, however, was a nice, typical one, rather melancholic, how fitting. He stubbed out his cigarette and took a look from the car window. The sea looked dark and unwelcoming as far as he could see it from all the fog. He sighed and parked his car to the side of the road. What would be a better place to spend some time alone than a beach in autumn?

He stepped out of his car. The long grass and the various plants growing on the unkempt beach were still with no wind blowing on them, making their only lazy movements as Francis walked through them. The air was still, too still; it felt suffocating, kind of unreal, as if he had been transported into a different world, into a painting with no oxygen in the air that he could breath. Despite this, he inhaled the marine air touched with salt. But the touch was faint, and it felt unreal too, it wasn't the same as it had been a couple of months ago when they had come to this beach together, enjoyed the solitude and each others' company. Francis had plucked a corn poppy and placed it in his hair. He had blushed and slapped Francis' hand away, but let the flower untouched. But the petals of the flower had soon fallen off, like the petals of cut corn poppies often did; and almost as fast, Francis thought, had their love done the same. Now he wished he had chosen a longer-lasting flower to pick.

The sand under his feet made a small rustling noise as he walked on it. Wasn't it on this sand they had walked, laughed, been happy together? Francis could almost still see him sitting on the snow white sand, his golden hair glistening as it got gently kissed by the bright sun. The Frenchman glanced at the sand near an old, abandoned rowboat where he remembered they had sat drinking wine, and immediately had to blink a couple of times and rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. The golden hair, although without the sun's tender embrace now, sat there in the sand... with a sigh of disappointment he realized it was not him. There, on his place, sat a girl in a cute red dress that looked too cold for the weather. Francis took some hesitant steps towards the girl before stopping to look at her. He coughed, wondering if he should call out for her, make his presence known somehow. He would have preferred solitude right now, but it was rather rude just to stand there silently, after all.

"Bonjour," he finally said, managing to bring to his voice the normal suave, debonair tone. The girl startled and turned to look at him, her face immediately lighting up like a miniature sun.

"Witaj!" she greeted happily. "I'm like, so glad you came! I was getting bored of being all alone. Sit down!" she patted the sand next to her. She didn't seem to be the least surprised to see someone on this otherwise deserted beach, even though Francis was sure she could not have been expecting him. Despite having wanted to be alone, he took up on the girl's offer and sat next to her. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad, after all, to have another human being close by. It brought him comfort that solitude could never give him.

"Aren't you cold in that dress?" he asked, eyes wandering in the knee-high sleeveless red shirt with white polka dots. The girl grinned.

"A little. But it's my favourite!" she said, rubbing the skin on her arms with her hands to keep herself warm. The motion was soon halted, however, as something warm was set on her shoulders. She looked up to Francis with a surprised expression, then smiled and slipped her hands through the sleeves of the coat Francis had just given her. The coat was obviously too big for her, but she didn't seem to mind. At least it was warm enough to keep her from freezing.

"Dziękuję!" she chirped, leaning in to graze her lips against Francis' cheek. "You're a real gentleman, aren't you!"

Francis smiled, the cheek kiss somehow feeling natural in this situation. "Don't mention it," he said. "But what is a beautiful creature such as you doing here all alone?"

The girl giggled and shrugged. "I just wanted to see the sea." she watched as Francis leant backwards to lay on the sand on his back. "What about you?"

"Me too," he replied simply. The girl looked at Francis with a mischievous glint in her eyes before sprawling on the sand herself. There was a moment or two of silence, but weirdly enough it was not the uncomfortable, suffocating kind as one could predict would fall upon two strangers who met each other in such an unconventional way. Then she turned to face Francis, an uncanny smile playing on her lips and the same puckish glint in her eyes.

"You're depressed, aren't you," she said, not allowing her eyes to take a single break from looking straight to Francis's. "You have a really glum aura. It's because of a girl, isn't it?" she poked Francis's chest. "Did she get mad at you? Did you forget her birthday?"

Francis looked at the girl and gave a soft laugh. "I was dumped," he said simply, not caring to let it out that it wasn't a girl who had left him. Oh, how mad his golden-haired angel would get if he knew he was mistaken as a girl...

The girl looked at him with her eyes sparkling of curiosity before suddenly getting up and running away. Francis looked as she got further and further before closing his eyes, wondering if the girl was a human at all. So magically had she appeared, and so suddenly left, like a capricious fairy who wanted to amuse herself by looking at distressed mortals. Before he could get any further with this train of thought he heard steps approaching him, and as he peeked through half-opened eyelids he saw the girl setting a blood-red poppy flower on his blonde hair.

"The petals will wilt soon," he reminded. The girl laughed.

"It's alright. We just have to enjoy its beauty as long as it still has its petals!"

Francis blinked but didn't say a word; and, indeed, no words were needed as his lips met with the girl's in a kiss that tasted like raspberries in a way that reminded him strangely of those bright days of summer, although his lips had always tasted sweeter. If the fairy's kiss was of raspberries, his angel's had been strawberries; both delicious in their own way. The kiss was followed by another, and yet another, until they were both out of breath, laying on the sand with smiles on their faces. Their fingers entwined in each other, the only sound to break the blessed tranquility being languid laughter. The sand tickled their backs, and somewhere between the curtains of mist there might have been a ray or two of bright sun, but Francis couldn't concentrate on anything as earthly as that at the moment. Time flew by in the comfort of the placidity, until it was broken by a cry.

"Feliks!"

The fingers woven together with Francis's suddenly released their hold on his, and the girl sat up speedily enough to send out grains of sand to every direction around her. She smiled impishly again before reaching out to the pocket in her dress and fishing out a piece of paper with numbers on it.

"I had fun," she said simply before grinning and getting up, hurrying up to the road. The origin of the cry from before, a black-haired man dressed in a smart suit, was standing next to a modest, grey sedan. Francis saw the girl put her arms around the man, and after some mild, awkward resistance from the black-haired man's part received a kiss on her lips, and the both of them stepped into the car. Francis sighed and turned his eyes to the sea of clouds above him. Ah. So that's how it was. He brought his right hand up and looked at the slip of paper on it. Without as much as a blink, he let go of it and looked as it got taken away by the wind, finally disappearing into the fog.


End file.
